


A Mother Calls (she calls you with glee)

by c0nstantines



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Gen, Not Beta Read, Shmi Skywalker Lives, Tatooine Slave Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0nstantines/pseuds/c0nstantines
Summary: Short scenes following Anakin, and his daily life which involves Tatooine Slave Culture.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Leia Organa & Shmi Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	1. tpm -> the padawan years

**Author's Note:**

> credit goes to @fialleril for this absolutely amazing culture that she constructed like bravo dude and please go looked through her tsc tag because the world building is just *chefs kiss*
> 
> also uhhhh I completely slipped over TCW im sorry v--v

QUICK DICTIONARY:  
Ar-Amu: The goddess/mother figure of Amavikka religion  
Depur: Masters  
Tena: a major prophet in Amavikka religion  
Amatakka: language of the Amavikka  
Grandmother/father: an older person in a group/community of slaves who shares wisdom and advice to the other slaves

\- -  
\- -  
\- -

"Ar-Amu has blessed you, my dear." Said Shmi, giving him a cup of freshly brewed tzai. Anakin took the cup and dabbed his finger in the tea, before hovering his hand over the floor, and letting the droplet of tea fall onto the small pile of sandy grains that managed to find themselves on the red tiles.

"Why did you do that, Ani?" Shmi asked, getting her own cup and pouring some tzai. 

"I wanted to give Ar-Amu some of your tzai because she gave me blessings!" Anakin explained excitedly. Shmi smiled.

"And you used your blessing to give back to her." 

Anakin looked at his mother, confused.

"Ani, Ar-Amu's blessing that she bestowed onto you is a blessing of selflessness. You help others, and you helped quench the thirst of the desert and our Great Mother by giving tzai." His mother explained, setting the tea pot down and moving to the dining room, with Anakin following behind. 

"But everyone should help everyone, mom." Anakin said, sitting down at the dining table and taking a sip of the tzai. 

"Well, that's right, but. . . Not everyone in the galaxy wants to help everyone."

"But why?"

"Because when people have everything, the less they want to give away." Shmi explained, and Anakin listened intently; his eyes shone with the need and the want to learn.

His eyes shone with the feeling that the Skywalkers depur would love to take away.

"Depurs refuse to give away slaves, and rich Senators of the Republic refuse to give away money to the poor unless it benefits them. But you, Ani, you and Kitster and all your friends. . . You give away like it's nothing, and that is a trait more respectable than anything else in the galaxy." 

"What about you, mom? What blessing did Ar-Amu give you?"

Shmi's eyes held a glimmer of something; a glimmer of old, beaten hope. It was a shine that Anakin saw in the most lowly of the Amavikkan; having old hope that was so beaten and pushed away was worse than having no hope at all, Anakin thought.

And his mother had such hope.

"Ar-Amu's blessing that she gifted me was a speaker's blessing."

Anakin gasped happily, and Shmi smiled at the display of happiness.

"So you're like Tena?!" Anakin asked, excited. Shmi laughed.

"I'm not so sure yet, Ani, but that will reveal itself in due time." 

\- -  
\- -  
\- -

When Anakin arrives at the temple after the Battle of Naboo and the death of Qui-Gon, he is quiet; it isn't the sad, lonely type of quiet, but rather the sneaky and swift type of quiet. It's a silence that can catch someone off guard, and Anakin uses it to his advantage whenever he can.

It's one of those days, two days into his permanent stay at the Jedi Temple, when he sneaks into the Archives; Obi-Wan had been locked up in his room, so the ten year old had informed his master where he would be by shouting it through the door.

The Archives are large and looming, and Anakin's mind briefly flashes back to the looming, sandstone walls of Gardulla's palace, but he shakes the memory off; he is not a slave in the Jedi Temple, he reasons with himself.

He wanders around, looking and looking, and thinking of how much he'd be able to read once he finally learns the Galactic Alphabet. 

He wonders if one day, he'll write a book about the Amavikkan and Amatakka; but then, the dawning realization that perhaps exposing his people to the outside galaxy wouldn't be the best idea. 

He continues to wander between the isles of the Archives, his mind racing. There were so many possibilities in learning linguistics; perhaps he'd be able to read those novels that he overheard a fellow padawan talking about, or perhaps he could write the stories his mother told him back on Tatooine, perhaps-- 

He hears footsteps and talking, and he freezes.

The two Jedi conversing round the corner of the isle he was in; the pair consists of an older woman, who's pale and with gray hair, and she reminds Anakin of the grandmother he had met in the Slave Quarters. The man next to her is, from what Anakin guessed, a Kiffar, with long dreads that go over his shoulders and a yellow tattoo that goes from cheekbone to cheekbone. 

The duo noticed Anakin, and they went quiet.

"Hello, young padawan." The elder woman greeted. "Are you lost?"

"N-no." Anakin stuttered out. "I'm just. . . just looking around. I'm new."

The lady looked puzzled for a moment, before the realization dawned on her. The Kiffar, however, studied Anakin.

"Are you Kenobi's new padawan?" He asked. Anakin nods. "Your names Ani, right?"

"No, sir. My name's Anakin; Anakin Ekkreth- I mean, Skywalker." 

He let out a breath of relief when the mix-up seemed to go over the man's head.

"Well, I'm Quinlan Vos. I'm actually friends with Kenobi, so you might see me around, Skywalker." 

Anakin nodded.

"I'm Jocasta Nu." Says the lady. Anakin nods once more. "Would you like me to show you around, Skywalker?" 

"Yes, please, grandmother-"

He shuts his mouth as soon as he says "grandmother". Quinlan laughs, and Jocasta raises her eyebrows.

"What did you call me?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Nu. I didn't mean to offend you!" Anakin then bowed his head, looking to the floor; Quinlan then stopped laughing.

"I'm not offended, young Skywalker." Said Jocasta. "Still, you must never call an elderly Jedi a grandmother or grandfather; you must only call them by Master. Do you understand? This way, you can prevent that mistake in the future."

Anakin looked up, and locked eyes with Quinlan. Then, he looked at Jocasta, and nodded.

"I understand, Master."

He resists the urge to say depur. Quinlan picked up on the silent anger that emitted from Anakin.

"Hey, it's alright, kid." Said Vos. He smiled, and he felt Anakin's anger wash away in an instant at the smile. "She's an old lady, and old ladies can be cranky." 

"Cranky?" Jocasta asked, turning her head to Quinlan. "I am not cranky, young man."

Anakin giggled at the banter that Quinlan had started.

"Yes, you are."

"Quinlan-"

"Anyways, kid, if you get tired of calling people master, you don't have to call me that." Quinlan explained, turning his attention back to Anakin, who nodded. "I'm no depur."

Anakin's eyes lit up on the Amatakka that Quinlan had slipped into his speech.

"You know the tongue?" Anakin asked in Amatakka. Quinlan tilted his head to the side and shrugged, still having that winner smile.

"I picked up on a few words when I was on Tatooine." He responded, switching to Huttese. "Perhaps you can teach me the language and we can heckle Jedi together."

Anakin beamed, and smiled.

"You can count on me, Master Vos!"

\- -  
\- -  
\- -

On Anakin's twelfth bornday, it rained. 

Earlier that morning, Anakin had prayed. He poured some water onto the tile ground of his room, kneeling on one knee, and looked to the statue of Ar-Amu he had made; it was a crude statue, made of wire and covered in foil, but it worked.

"Ar-Amu." Anakin called, his voice quiet. "Thank you for letting me live another year; I promise you, Great Mother, I won't forget my promise. I will free all your children one day; I will slay Jabba the Depur and all the other Depurs below him. Everyone will be free, I promise."

The rain blew harder on Coruscant, like Ar-Amu heard his promise a thousand planets away.

"And, can I ask you one favor? Can you please make sure my mom is safe, Ar-Amu?"

Anakin could've sworn he heard a "Yes."

Later, he had gone to the kitchens, and had asked if he could make himself some breakfast. The Jedi working in the kitchens had hesitantly obliged, but allowed him to make himself breakfast under supervision.

He had made himself three, thin pancakes, and left the kitchens with those three pancakes, plastic utensils, and a tiny can of whipped cream.

Once back in his dormitory, he had sat at his workbench, and set aside the small trinkets he had been working on for the past few days, before setting his food down. 

He cut the pancakes into tiny slices, and put some whipped cream on the side as a dip. 

His breakfast was supposed to be reminiscent of tarlevu, which were three pancakes made from fried ansar roots, and said roots were essentially Tatooine potatoes. The breakfast was good, Anakin could admit that, but it didn't have the same feeling as it did back on Tatooine.

Besides, Tarlevu was traditionally eaten during Bentu Depurak, the Day of Reckoning of the Masters. Anakin felt guilty eating his own version of Tarlevu now.

But, he already made the food, so there was no time to waste.

He began to eat, and when he was halfway into his meal, Obi-Wan walked in.

"Anakin, it's time to-"

Anakin nearly started coughing out of surprised, but swallowed the piece of pancake lodged in his throat.

"M-Master! I didn't think you'd be up this early." Anakin laughed nervously. Obi-Wan eyed his padawans breakfast.

"What's all this?" He asked. Anakin faltered.

"Oh, uh. . . It's just, well, the Jedi at the kitchens let me make some breakfast for myself."

"Those pancakes are extremely thin, Anakin!" Obi-Wan scolded. "Aren't pancakes supposed to be fluffy?"

"These are how they're made back home, except I don't have the ingredients from home so I improvised."

Obi-Wan was silent, before he asked another question.

"Why'd you make such a breakfast for yourself? You usually don't eat much more than an apple." 

Anakin went silent, before looking down at the floor. He supposed he couldn't back out of this one.

"Well, um. . . It's my bornday, Master." Anakin explained, his voice tight. "I just decided to give myself a treat."

"It's your bornday?" Obi-Wan asked. "Not even your medical records state your bornday. Oh, Anakin, you should've told me; I could've take you to Dex's Diner!"

"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin mutters, biting the urge to say Depur. "It's just that back home, we don't tell masters our borndays if we know the date; because borndays are sacred, and masters. . . masters will take away anything that is sacred. I'm not saying that you'd do that, but it's. . . it's habit." Anakin says.

'It's survival.' He means.

Obi-Wan goes quiet with shock, trying to process what Anakin had just said. Still, he nods.

"Anakin, I just want you to know that I will never be like the masters in Tatooine, and if I ever remind you of such people through my actions or words, please tell me immediately; during your apprenticeship, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible so we don't encounter any roadblocks, and if we are to achieve that, we must communicate, alright?"

". . . Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan nodded again.

"Finish up your meal, and go off to your classes; this is your final year learning at the Temple, and on your thirteenth bornday, you'll start going with me on missions; I don't want you to fail these next few semesters, alright?"

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan turned to leave.

"Oh, and, happy bornday, Anakin."

"Thank you, Master."

Obi-Wan then left the room. There was an anger in Anakin, and he doesn't know why he's angry, but he simply is.

Thunder boomed outside, loud and crackling; Anakin sighed, and his hunger left him. He continued to eat, anyway.

\- -  
\- -  
\- -


	2. aotc -> rots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is,,, admittedly a bit rushed but that's ok

"Mom, we're almost there! Just hang on!"

The nineteen year old Skywalker sped through the desert on his speeder, with his mother in the backseat, her arms limply resting around Anakin's waist as she dozed off out of pain.

Anakin had found his mother in pain; he had reached her just a few hours before nightfall, and now the night was beginning to rise, and the desert got cold in the night.

"You're gonna be ok, mom!" Anakin called to her, trying desperately to keep her awake. "I won't let you die! Ar-Amu told me she'd keep you safe!"

Shmi was starting to fully wake up.

". . . Ani. . ?" She croaked.

"I'm here, mom. I'll get you to the homestead, and then you can be healed there."

Shmi nodded, although she wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

Anakin sped up as fast as he could, zooming through the desert. He could feel his mother's life force; it was diminishing slowly, but he could make it.

He had to; when he promised Ar-Amu her children would be freed by him, that included his own mother.

He couldn't free her from their master, but perhaps he could free her from the clutches of death.

Eventually, the round, clay mound of the homestead entrance came into view, and Anakin skidded to a stop once he reached the front of the entrance.

He got off the speeder, and hastily picked up his mother, who mumbled something in pain.

"You're ok, mom. It's ok. . ."

"Ani. ." She repeated.

"I'm here, Amu. I'm here."

Anakin hurried down from the entrance into the main parts of the homestead, where the Lars, Padmé, Artoo and Threepio were waiting. He nearly tripped on his own feet twice.

"Someone come help me heal my mother!" Anakin exclaimed, barging into the main area where the group was. Beru, almost immediately, stepped up.

"I know where the medical supplies are; Owen, you go help Anakin find a room for Shmi; I'll get the stuff we need." Beru instructed, her voice calm. Anakin's nerves relaxed a bit, and he followed Owen to Shmi and Cliegg's room.

Once in the room, Anakin laid Shmi down on the bed, while Owen turned on the lights.

Shmi looked to Anakin, then Owen, and gave a weak smile.

"Ani, Owen; my boys." She croaked. The young men immediately put their full attention on her.

"Is there something you need, mom?"

"Do you need anything, mom?"

Shmi gave a little laugh at how similar the two questions were.

"I'm so glad I get to see you together. . . My two sons get to finally meet."

There was a happy silence that settled, but it was interrupted when Padmé and Beru walked in with the medical supplies.

Beru and Padmé placed the various medical supplies nearby, while Beru went through instructions and protocols in a way that resembled Threepio going through instructions; both she and the droid talked at a million miles per hour.

"Padmé, do you know how to heal or apply bandages?"

"I know how to apply bandages."

"Alright; you stay with me. Anakin, what about you?"

"I know how to disinfect wounds." 

"Alright; this is going to make our work easier and more efficient. Owen, stay outside and try to calm Cliegg down."

Owen nodded, and left the room swiftly.

"Alright, everyone, let's get to work."

\- -  
\- -  
\- -

"You are under arrest, my lord."

Anakin ran into the Chancellor's office, and found Mace Windu standing over Palpatine, his lightsaber ignited and pointed at the Chancellor.

Palpatine spotted Anakin walk in, and feigned fear.

"Anakin, I told you it would come to this! I was right -- the Jedi are taking over!"

Anakin was silent. 

"The oppression of the Sith are no more; you have lost." Mace Windu snarled. Anakin looked between the two, trying to decide who was right. He took a step back, as if he were trying to get the bigger picture.

Palpatine's next words went from ear to ear, and then, he shocked Mace Windu, who deflected the lightning using his lightsaber.

"I have the power to save the one you love!" Palpatine shouted over the lightning, which shocked and deformed his face.

"Don't listen to him, Anakin!"

Anakin tried to look at what was happening despite the bright lightning, and he wasn't sure who to help.

"Anakin, please!" Mace Windu cried, struggling to hold Palpatine's lightning back. "He is exactly like the masters of Tatooine!"

The room shifted a bit, and Anakin was three years old, in Gardulla's throne room. Reality hit him quickly, however, and the memory is gone as soon as it came.

He thought back to what he promised Ar-Amu, and he hesitated.

His chest heaved with a cry; he had to act, and he had to act now. 

It was as if he did his next action on autopilot; it wasn't instinct, but simply repetition.

The lightning then stopped, and Mace Windu stepped away from the window, his lightsaber still pointed at Palpatine.

Anakin isn't sure what he had done.

Then, he looks at Palpatine's hands, and discovers that he cut them off. He doesn't feel the tremor of the kyber crystal in his lightsaber hilt until then.

Mace Windu glances at him.

"Good work, Skywalker; now, help me arrest this bastard."

\- -  
\- -  
\- - 

"And then, Ekkreth turned into a bird and flew away!"

Luke looked up at his grandmother, amazed. Leia was busy drawing something that vaguely resembled a krayt dragon on a piece of durasheet.

"Can you tell me another story, Grandma?" Luke asked. Shmi nodded.

"Alright, Lukka, here's a story of how Tena freed 500 slaves in one night."

Luke's eyes lit up with delight. 

Anakin watched his son and mother interact from the kitchen, and smiled. The morning was early, and Shmi, Owen, and Beru were visiting for Luke and Leia's bornday. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were going over later, and the day was already brimming with excitement.

Anakin sipped some tzai, and Padmé walked into the kitchen. 

"You're finally awake." Anakin remarked. Padmé gave him a look.

"Anakin, it's 9 in the morning; you sleep in more than I do."

"Not true." 

Padmé shook her head and laughed. She poured herself some tzai and went over to Anakin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before going over to sit with Shmi, Luke, and Leia.

Anakin watched his small family, and then, he looked at the small statue of Ar-Amu that he had kept with him since he was twelve.

"You kept them safe, Ar-Amu." He muttered. "Thank you, Great Mother."

He then heard a woman's voice, who sounded like a mixture of his mother's and someone else's.

"You're welcome, little Skywalker."


End file.
